


He built a fire just to keep me warm

by Nath_happiness



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Bottom Derek Hale, Derek Gets Therapy, Derek Hale Deserves Nice Things, Emissary Stiles Stilinski, Fix-It of Sorts, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Monster of the Week, Pack Feels
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-12
Updated: 2017-12-27
Packaged: 2019-02-14 00:56:24
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 9,392
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12996336
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Nath_happiness/pseuds/Nath_happiness
Summary: Derek makes a dry joke, nobody laughs and he thinks: Stiles would.That’s when he decides to go back.





	1. 1

**Author's Note:**

  * For [aredblush](https://archiveofourown.org/users/aredblush/gifts).



> Title by Taylor Swift’s “Call it what you want”. I swear that song was made for Sterek, sneaky Taylor xD.

For the past four years. Derek had been living, if not a happy life, then a healing one.

Leaving Beacon Hills had not been easy. Even after moving to Brazil with his sister, the town stayed in his mind. He constantly woke up sweating and trembling, nightmares created from old memories and new fears mixed into a toxic combination.

He thought about everything that has happened - Kate, Jennifer, The Alpha pack - and Stiles. Especially about Stiles, his human nature, skin and bones that cracked and couldn’t heal fast enough. He thought about Stiles, and couldn’t sleep.

It was during one of those nights that they started messaging each other. Stiles and Derek texted at least once a week and then started calling and Skyping often. It helped, along with the therapy, and with the passing of time, the frozen fear that commanded his heart became muted, more manageable.

He stopped freezing when his phone ringed or creating excuses for not leaving his house. He found out about his triggers and worked to overcome them. Of course, it wasn’t easy or a perfect and convenient solution, he was probably going to live forever with some of those feelings, but he was trying to get better. It had to count for something.

At least it was what Stiles told him once. That he was _trying_ , and that it was enough.

Surprisingly, Cora had been very supportive of him in the beginning, when he needed the most, making it possible for him to go to therapy without worrying about anything else - bills, housing, food, his sister took care of it all.

Brazil had been a growing experience. Derek liked the rain and how it petted the windows of their apartment in the afternoons, how the sun showed up seconds after the rain was gone, like some kind of weird and cliché metaphor for his life. He took it to heart anyway though. _Chuva da tarde_ it’s how they called it. Sometimes he would go outside and stand in the rain, just feeling the drops touch his body. Derek believed it could clean the darkest soul.

He liked the people, how they would surprise him by going against the stereotypes. He kept to himself, but it didn’t stop him from people watching. Derek also didn’t integrate into the local pack but was welcomed in their residence on full moons or whenever he needed a _pack_.

If asked, he couldn’t point out what stopped him from settling down there, from accepting the pack completely in his heart. It was just a feeling he couldn’t shake, and after a while, he started to miss certain things.

Maybe it was the culture, he wondered. It goes beyond speaking the language - which he does, Portuguese came easy for him. It’s just that you never realize who you are unless you are speaking with someone who hasn’t watched the same TV shows growing up, who doesn’t know the same lullabies as you, who has different references in life. And it goes both ways. Most of the time it’s amazing to learn about their differences, to see the world through new eyes, and Derek desperately tries to bury the small part of him that demands that he picks up his bags and go home.

Or maybe it was something else.

Like when he makes a dry joke, nobody laughs and he thinks: _Stiles would_.

That’s when he decides to go back.

*

Needless to say, Cora is not happy with his decision, afraid he will let himself get emotionally vulnerable again, but Derek promises to Skype, visit on the holidays or even come back if things go downhill. The alpha of the pack, a beautiful woman called Catarina, extends their offer: _if he so desires, they will be waiting for him_.

It doesn’t change his mind, but it’s nice to know that he is not unwelcomed, that he has a place to stay if nothing goes right. So he leaves, his heart light for the first time in a long time.

He doesn’t know what to feel when the plane arrives and he leases a car to get him to Beacon Hills. He doesn’t know if the fluttering in his gut is coming from excitement or fear.

He thinks about calling Scott to let him know about his return but then thinks better of it.

Scott might be the alpha now, but Beacon Hills has been Hale territory for generations. Derek doesn't need _permission_ to come home. And he is not an alpha anymore, neither is he an omega since his ties to his sister keep his wolf at bay, so he doesn't constitute a threat. Scott will just have to deal with it.

And yes, he still is kind of bitter about Scott. Probably always will be. Whatever.

By the time he arrives at the loft, his nerves are drumming with anxiety. He climbs the stairs, struggles just a moment with the keys, opens the door and steps into the apartment. He walks straight to the huge windows and stares at the town beyond the glass.

He doesn’t have the time to deal with the lonely apartment, the open space that brings bad memories instantly, because that’s when Derek hears the unmistakable sound of Stiles’ jeep in the parking lot.

By the time he has turned in the direction of the door, Stiles is already entering the apartment, stopping only when their eyes meet. After a moment of hesitancy, Stiles starts walking again, his rabbit heart matching Derek’s own. Twenty paces, ten paces, five paces until his arms are reaching for Derek and enveloping him into a warm embrace.

Derek doesn’t even think, returning the hug instantly, settling a ball of anxiety he didn’t even know he had. There’s comfort, and warmth, and acceptance in the way Stiles body leans against his own. Like something long lost, found again.

It takes him a long moment to realize that Stiles’ heart is beating the calmest beat he has ever heard.

*

Later, when Derek is seating on the couch with Stiles by his side, he asks “How did you know I would be here?”

“Humm?” Stiles breathes, eyes half-lidded as he tips his head back against the back of the sofa, sleep heavy on his features.

“You knew I was back, right? How did you know?” because he had to know. He had. Derek hadn’t been in the loft for five minutes when Stiles arrived.

“Oh”, Stiles says, and turns to Derek, suddenly more awake. “I thought it was obvious. This is Hale land”.

With a raised eyebrow, Derek silent questions _and?_

Stiles sits straighter and looks into Derek’s eyes.

“This is your home. The air, the leaves, each drop of water in the river, everything that’s alive calm when you are here. So, of course, I knew you were back.”

But that...that confuses the shit out of Derek. Especially because Beacon Hills belongs to the Mccall Pack now. If the air and whatever felt something, shouldn’t be for them, instead of a random wolf?

 _Not so random_ , his mind whispered, and he wants to believe. he really, really does.

“This is Hale land”, Stiles repeats solemnly, and Derek doesn’t know if he is speaking the words for Derek or for himself.

*

That night, he sleeps by himself in the loft.

He wakes up from a nightmare and stares at the place where Boyd had his last breath, tears running down his face.

In the morning, he calls the realtor.

*

He buys a house close to the preserve, away from the traffic and the noises. Stiles helps him choose it and decorate it, claiming he needs a huge bed and the newest TV and every video game available. Derek is not surprised.

*

He can’t get Stiles’ words out of his head. _This is Hale land._

So he goes running, readapting to the land that his family grew up in, letting the cold air set his lungs on fire and feeling a wildness in him that he hadn’t felt in a long time. It’s like his wolf is saying _this here, everything in here, only here._

He doesn’t go past his old house, he doesn’t need to. This is a different kind of run, he doesn’t have a destination, letting his intuition guide him through the dark trees and small flashes of light above the green canopy.

He touches everywhere, scent marking the area, the feather-light touch of his fingertips leaving invisible traces on his path. Before he knows it he is grinning, wide, and running faster and faster, his shirt clutching at his sweaty back.

That is when he realizes that the forest is alive, full of sounds. As a predator, the other animals usually know to stay away from him, but not today. He can feel thousands of eyes on him as he races the freedom that the forest is affording him. The eyes are not malicious, just curious, so Derek let them be.

At dusk, he sits at a small clearing to catch his breath and appreciate the view. While he lays on the ground on his back and stares at the dying sun, he thinks that nothing could be better than this, nothing could make him happier than staying forever in this illusion of safety, of nothing to do, nothing to say, no accomplishments or regrets. If he stayed here, he could just _be_. 

 _Hale territory_ , he thinks.

*

He goes home and finds Stiles there, not only wearing one of his sweaters but also making dinner.

Stiles looks at Derek as if he knows exactly what he did all day, as if he can see how tired and relaxed the wolf is and shrugs unapologetically. “I hope you don’t mind that I am wearing your clothes. I got cold”.

If Derek notices the blip in his heartbeat, he decides not to make a big deal of it.

Turns out that having Stiles at his house and drenched in his scent gives him a pretty good feeling too.

*

Stiles mixes with Derek's life as if no time had passed, at all.

The man - because he is a man now, isn't he? - is stronger than he used to be, toned muscles and broad shoulders that fit right against Derek when they cuddle while watching tv.

And that becomes a common fixture in his routine. Stiles is just _there_ , helping him pick and assemble new furniture, buy groceries, and even driving him around town because Derek hasn't bought a car yet.  When he isn't studying at the  kitchen table, or at his classes, they are spending time together anyway, watching movies, reading, talking.

Stiles still lives with his dad, and is attending his last semester at the community college, but is counting the days until he can apply to be a deputy.

Another thing about Stiles is that he has a spark, and has been training with Deaton to become an Emissary.

When he explains it, distracted as he highlights a paragraph on his book and doesn't meet Derek's eyes, the werewolf's chest clenches with something uncomfortably close to _jealousy_. Because, if nothing else, Stiles must be training to be _Scott's_ emissary, and for a hot second Derek wishes he was still an alpha, so Stiles could be his. Derek is ashamed of it, of these thoughts and feelings, but they exist and never fail to make themselves known in moments such as these.

*

Derek likes the way Stiles’ hair flashes gold in the right light, how his breathing falters slightly when Derek enters the room. He likes the way Stiles’ hand feel against his, and Stiles’ voice sounds like when the man is excited about something.

Derek likes _him_.

*

The first time Stiles sleeps at the house he crashes on the couch.

The second time, he joins Derek at the bed in the middle of the night, insisting he is cold, hesitatingly wrapping his arms around Derek’s waist.

After that, Stiles doesn’t even pretend anymore.

Stiles says he likes to cuddle, that Derek is the perfect little spoon and Derek - Derek _cherishes_ it, the closeness, the sense of pack, the way Stiles’ body fit against his, the warm feeling of his breath on the back of his neck, how secure his arms make him feel.

Derek tries not to think about it though. He just enjoys it for as long as it lasts.

*

It becomes a thing, then. The sleeping and the - the flirting.

Stiles is daydreaming again about his future deputies days, and Derek snaps.

“So what, will I have to get used to you getting crazy shifts? If I wake up in the middle of the night because you are too damn loud? You will be sleeping on the couch. Forever”, Derek jokes with the best straight face he can manage, but Stiles sees right through him.

“Honey, I didn't know you cared!”, he laughs with his whole body, “I will make sure to not get home too late then”.

Derek rolls his eyes but is secretly pleased.

*

Stiles’ magic hasn’t ever been this calm. Derek remembers in the early days when the tension was high and they didn’t know how to let the walls down and trust each other, the way Stiles’ magic made his skin tingle in something scarily related to fear.

Stiles would be screaming at him and the whole street would go dark, all the lights extinguishing. Or Stiles would be distressed and the walls would tremble, the furniture in his room falling and crashing on the ground.

Now, though, Derek loves the way Stiles uses his magic, how amazing it is.

 _Spark, Derek, S-P-A-R-K,_ Stiles always complains when Derek calls it magic. But really, the word spark makes it seem like so much less.

Derek loves how Stiles can change the TV channel with just a twist of his fingers, how he reaches out and warms Derek’s coffee without being prompted. How he turns the lights on after a nightmare, his hands never leaving Derek’s body,  just the click of his fingers heard in the silent bedroom. How he makes a blanket appear out of thin air when Derek shivers on the couch.

All this great power used for the simplest things, generally Derek-related things, and it makes something in Derek’s heart twist. It makes Derek want to do nice things for Stiles in turn.

*

The idea comes after a boring day at home while reading a book about a chef and her struggle to find the perfect recipe.

Derek realizes that Stiles does most of the cooking, and when he isn’t in the mood they order takeout, and the next thing Derek knows he is in the grocery store picking up ingredients.

How hard can it be to cook dinner, right?

Turns out that very, very hard.

He cuts his fingers and burns his hands a little, and there is flour all over his face and chest in the end.

But Stiles delighted face at finding dinner ready, waiting for him? It’s more than worth it.

*

After that, it becomes tradition, and Derek gets better at cooking.

Sometimes Stiles helps, and they move in contentment around the small kitchen.

Derek sends Cora pictures, and for the first time, he feels… _proud_ of something he did.

It makes he feel productive like almost nothing else, and it’s good to have someone to share his creations with. Someone like Stiles.

*

It surprises him how much time Stiles spends with him, though.

Before Derek realizes, half of the wardrobe is full of Stiles’ clothes. He has a toothbrush, and is almost every day at the house, eating his food, wearing his clothes, sharing space with him, leaving his scent everywhere.

He wouldn’t expect a man so full of energy like Stiles to enjoy a life so calm, but that is exactly what happens.

Derek gets the impression that Stiles feels settled here, with the werewolf. And Derek doesn’t want to dismiss the things Stiles says.

_Holy shit, I couldn’t wait for that class to end. Want to catch a movie?_

_Der, I could die right now and I would be happy, and you know why???? Because of your cooking skills, Jesus fucking Christ._

_I will never understand how you can wake up so early, really. I thank the gods for your mattress, it’s so much better than mine at Dad’s house. I love sleeping here, you know?_

It feels cheap, to not believe in the things Stiles says. And the thing is, Derek doesn’t even need to listen to his heartbeat to know Stiles means every single word.

*

The sheriff is surprisingly good with it. He calls Derek one morning, inviting the wolf and Stiles for dinner. _If it’s the only way I can see my son these days, I am more than happy to oblige,_ he says _._

Dinner is good, even if Derek feels awkward at first, previous accusations of murder still hanging over his head. But the sheriff claps his shoulders and smiles at him across the table, Stiles’ tight brushing his own, and his nerves calm after some time.

The Stilinskis moan around the dessert that Derek baked, claiming that his apple pie is a godsend. Derek finds himself smiling at his plate, hoping they will have more evenings like these.

*

One day, Derek wakes up early enough to hear Stiles’ footsteps around the bedroom.

"What are you doing?" Derek asks, his fingers in his eyes trying to chase the sleep away.  Stiles is nothing more than a blur, a human figure pacing the front of bedroom, enveloped in a light blue haze.

He blinks, and when his vision adjusts, he is met with Stiles' smiling face.

"Protecting us, sleepy wolf." when met with Derek's raised eyebrow, he sighs and explains as if it's a chore to say the words. "I am reinforcing the wards. Now go back to sleep."

Derek decides it’s better not to question Stiles, and surprisingly, Derek does sleep, feeling completely safe for the first time in a long time.

*

Later, though. “Wards?” Derek asks.

Stiles stares sheepishly at the coffee on his hands.

“I am - sorry”, he speaks as if the words are being tortured out of him, “that I didn’t tell you about them, but I honestly didn’t think much of it. I have put wards all around the loft years ago, it became a habit to renew them from time to time, you know? When you moved here, I just made new wards and kept renewing them.”

For some reason, Derek feels close to tears. “Years?”

“Well, yeah”, Stiles shrugs and glances up at Derek. “I didn’t know _when,_ but I knew you _would_ be back. And then you were here, and I thought _why not strengthen the wards_? It didn’t seem like a big deal at the time, but I am sorry if I made you uncomfortable, or something.”

Derek thinks about a younger Stiles, walking around the empty apartment and using his magic to protect Derek, even if the man in question was in another continent. Never asking for anything in return.

“I just wanted to make sure it was safe. That is all,” Stiles finishes, taking a big gulp of his coffee after.

Derek reaches across the table and squeezes Stiles’ hands, words failing him. Stiles understands though if his small laugh and the way he adjusts his hands more comfortably around Derek’s is something to go by.

“I know, sourwolf,” he whispers, eyes soft in the morning light, and Derek can’t deny it anymore. He never could, really, not even when Stiles was an annoying teenager.

It is like the gate is wide open and all of his feelings are crashing down on him.

Slowly, Derek brings their hands to his mouth, giving it a featherlight kiss.

When their eyes meet, Derek realizes they don’t need words, or promises, or over the top declarations. Stiles’ lips move without a sound. _I know,_ it says.

Derek smiles.

*

Things change, but at the same time, they remain the same.

Derek still cooks, and the still eat on the couch while watching TV series. They still have dinners with the sheriff, and Derek continues to slowly acclimate to his life in Beacon Hills.

The difference it that now Derek discovers the texture of Stiles’ lips, warm and wet against his own, and the smoothness of his body, how those hands feel tightening in the strands of his hair, wrapping around the back of his neck, gently guiding his head. The way Stiles’ fingers caress other parts of his body, exploring, preparing, worshiping him.

Derek finds out how it feels like to become one with Stiles, to belong to him in every possible way. To have teeth biting at his shoulders, the pain stinging but also leaving a mark, for however fleeting it is. But Derek will know it was there. He will remember.

Stiles leans his sweaty forehead against Derek’s, brushing soaked wet hair out of his lovers face, grasping his hands in a tight squeeze, dark eyes seeking his. In this moment, they share more than air between them, feelings bursting out of them in the powerful beating of their hearts, in the way their bodies move against each other, in the awkward moments, the flailing, the imperfection.

Derek feels complete.

*

Derek doesn’t go out of his way to seek a job. For the first time in a long time’ he can think clearly, well, clearer than before, and he enjoys the quiet, the slow motion of his new life in Beacon Hills.

He likes making grocery store, making small talk with the other customers that are warming up to him. His neighbors even nod and give him waves and smiles when he passes them on the street. Derek likes cleaning the house, having time to think and read. Loves jogging up in the preserve without being scared shitless for his life. Loves creating new recipes and showing them to Stiles and the sheriff, watching their faces contorting in pleasure at something made with his own hands.

He starts learning a new language too. He has a lot of spare time.

He continues his therapy with a new doctor, meetings once a month now, and he feels afraid of going back to a place full of pressure, drama and deadlines, triggering things that might be bad for his mental health. He doesn’t want to feel like the early days, never again.

When he shares this with Stiles, the man nods like he was expecting it, smiling and affirming that he is fine with whatever Derek chooses to do. That staying at home, doing house chores is not embarrassing or humiliating. _I would rather see you happy and well than seeing you with a job and miserable, Der. If you change your mind and decide to get a job someday, yeah, that’s fine too. But for now, I am good with whatever you want_.

Derek gets the feeling that he might become a househusband.

He does not hate the idea in principle, and that’s something.

*

One night, Stiles claims he is sick of his study assignments and drags Derek to the closest pizza place. Derek, who had been slowly making his way through one of Stiles’ books about magic, just raises an eyebrow and lets Stiles pull him from the sofa and push him out of the door.

While they walk, he notices that Stiles’ hand never really left his body, migrating to his waist instead. It’s not the first time it happened, and Derek doesn’t mind the contact, appreciates it even if he is being honest with himself. However,  the tender touches usually stay hidden by the walls of the house. Derek is suddenly wondering what their neighbors are going to say. Does Stiles even know what he is doing? What it looks like? Does Stiles care?

Derek looks at Stiles, who seems content and at ease, and the werewolf feels his shoulders relaxing, his body melting into Stiles’ side as they walk.

They enter the small place, the door jingling with their presence, and Derek goes straight to the counter to check the types of pizza they offer. It’s not that he doesn’t know the flavors by heart, it’s just something he does without much thought, just going with the flow.

He is so relaxed that he doesn’t even smell the other wolves in the room, just realizes that something is not entirely right when Stiles’ scent goes slight anxious. He turns to Stiles, who is giving him an apologetic smile. “I think we will have to sit with them” he barely whispers. “Is that ok with you?”

Derek is confused for a second, until he sees Scott and his pack sitting in one corner, looking surprised and - maybe expectant?

Derek hasn’t talked with Scott yet. They just coexist in Beacon Hills, and truth be told, Derek had been kind of busy putting his life together to worry about the other man. But here, now, he understands that going there and being civil is the right thing to do. After all, this is _Stiles’ pack_. He chooses to make the effort, and smiles a little at Stiles, letting him know that it’s ok.

Stiles’ fingers circle his wrist in a light grip, and they walk towards the table together after ordering their pizza.

They all say their _hello's_ and _how have you been’s_ , patting backs or giving tight hugs, and Stiles sits by his side, letting his arm rest on the back of Derek's chair all through dinner. Sometimes the pad of his fingers absently-mind touches his neck, his shoulders, his ears, his hair.

Derek notices Lydia staring at them a few times, her eyes zeroing on the places where he and Stiles meet, but she says nothing.

Derek doesn’t know the story there - if there’s any - but he thinks that the less he knows, the better. Less jealousy that way. For his part, at least.

He isn’t that selfless though, he can’t gather the energy to feel sorry for her. The fact that Stiles is by his side, touching him, making him feel cherished? Derek is into it. So into it. He is fucking glowing with it.

The meeting is not as awkward as it could be. But he is immensely glad when the night is over.

The Mccall pack invites them to go watch movies with them, apparently tonight is pack night, but Stiles glances at Derek and declines, they all saying their _goodbye’s_.

Derek is confused by why Stiles is picking a boring night with him instead of being with his pack, and by the easy acceptance displayed by Scott as if this is normal behavior.

Derek doesn’t understand, but it doesn’t mean he isn’t happy when, fifteen minutes later, Stiles crashes on his sofa, already choosing a TV show that Derek _just has to watch, oh my god_. Derek makes popcorn, sits on the couch and leans on Stiles side, getting comfortable.

It’s pretty good.

*

Later that night, Derek’s curiosity wins over his hesitation, and he blurts out, “Why do you never spend time with your pack?”

Stiles freezes then put his cell phone back on the nightstand. “They are not my pack”, he says softly, eyeing Derek from the corner of his eyes.

For his part, Derek doesn’t believe his ears. “What do you mean they are not your pack? Scott -”

“Is not my alpha”, Stiles explains, shaking his head. He turns his body towards Derek, touching his face. “You are.”

Derek can’t help his small frown. It feels as if all of the things he believed his whole life are lies, like this is the same as saying that cows can fly, or that Santa is real. It’s not that Derek wants to _defend_ Scott of all people, he just wants to _understand_. “But, he is your _best friend_.”

Stiles shrugs and turns his eyes back to the ceiling.

“Scott will always be important to me, but he has always known that he could never be my alpha. And he is ok with it. My magic,” he puts his hands in front of his face, studying his fingers, “has always been connected to you somehow.”

Derek doesn’t know why, but his mouth seems to have a life of its own, speaking idiotic things, like “But I am not an alpha”. For good measure, he flashes his bright blue _beta_ eyes, the very embodiment of his mistakes, the color representing how much he wasn’t made to be an alpha.

Stiles surprises him once again, of course, he does. Without breaking eye contact, Stiles moves his palm, producing a beacon of light that shines in the same color of Derek’s wolf eyes. And startled, Derek realizes he has seen that shade of color before around Stiles, diluted in the small acts of magic he indulges in. It’s a “blink and you missed” kind of thing, but Derek knows now.

Derek looks at Stiles with awe in the blue irises, and Stiles smiles. “You don’t need to have red eyes for us to belong together, Derek. When I met you, you were a Beta, and my magic still connected to you, clinging like a fucking monkey. When you were gone,” he swallows before continuing, the light dimming in his eyes, “It was hard to keep my magic from going crazy, wanting to follow you. It was hard to give you the space I knew that you needed.”

Slowly, he closes his palm, ending the magic and turning the room dark once more.

There is a pause, and then Stiles reaches out, touching Derek’s cheek with the tip of his fingertips. “I never feel as settled in my own skin as when I am with you.” Brown eyes shine gold in the low light. “Are you freaked out?”

That is not how Derek would choose to word this, but no, Stiles could never freak him out.

Not even in his darkest moments, Derek feared the man before him.

To prove his point, he wraps himself around his boyfriend, putting his head on his shoulders, breathing in their mixed scents. “No, I am... happy.” That is the word, but it doesn’t feel like enough to describe his feelings. “I have always wanted you to choose me. I just didn’t think it would happen”, he shrugs.

“I chose you, Der. A lifetime ago.” Stiles runs his fingers through Derek’s hair, scratching his neck slightly.

Derek puts his weight on his elbow, looking down at Stiles. He kisses the man slowly, savoring it, and then grins wide at him. “I chose you right back.”

Stiles laughs, pulling his boyfriend, his lover, his fucking mate back towards him.

And life goes on.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As always, all the mistakes are mine :)  
> Translations at the ending notes.

When Derek sees Jackson, of all people, outside the gas station, he freezes for a second before making his way towards him and his expensive Porsche. It’s like his body has taken full control of his actions for once.

He has thought about Jackson, of course. Regret and deep grief involve his memories of his old pack, and his steps falter a little, but Derek keeps going towards his ex-almost-pack mate.

Jackson’s aristocratic face turns towards him with an impassive expression but doesn’t run away, and that gives Derek the strength to finish his walk of shame.

When he gets close enough, he says “I didn’t know you were back”. Irritation flickers across Jackson’s eyes, and Derek stumbles with a clumsy “It’s good to see you”.

With a thin set of his mouth, Jackson answers, chin high in the air. “Well, I was in the area and decided to give it a shot. I wanted to see if this hell hole had changed even if just a little.”

Derek hears the blip in Jackson`s heart, but doesn’t say anything. He stares at the tense set of the other’s shoulders and thinks _this is the only chance I will ever have_. So he takes a huge breath and powers through his fears.

“Jackson”, he starts, “I know that I am the last person you probably wanted to see, but I just wanted you to know that I am sorry. Not that I turned you –” he adds hastily, looking at the other side, “but for not helping you like I should have, for not being a good alpha for you… for not being _there._ ” He looks at Jackson’s wary eyes again. “I am sorry.”

For a long moment, they only stare at each other. Then, surprisingly, Jackson smirks. “I had a lot of time to think, Hale. And I know life has not been easy for you. We all did things we wish we could take back. I understand. I would have tried to kill me too, in your place.”

Derek huffs, feeling lighter like a mountain has left his shoulders. It _is_ good to see him, who would have thought. “If it’s not too soon, would you like to have dinner at my house sometime?”

“You’re cooking?” Jackson shrugs, putting his douchey sunglasses back over his eyes, but Derek can tell from his scent how much he welcomes the idea.

*

Jackson comes for dinner that night, bringing a surprise guest with him.

Stiles gapes comically when he arrives at the house and sees Danny standing in their kitchen, and the spark runs and hugs the other man as if he is seeing a ghost. Stiles is also pleased to see the Kanima, which makes Derek think Stiles already knew Jackson was in town. By the way Stiles glances at him over Jackson’s shoulders, Derek knows he did the right thing.

Over the course of the night, they learn that Danny and Jackson are lovers now, have been in a relationship ever since Danny got over his fears of the mythical and  traveled to England to search for Jackson, and that it was Danny’s idea to come back.

“London was cool, but it wasn’t home, you know?” Danny says while eating his spaghetti.

Now, Jackson has studied to be a lawyer while Danny is opening his own company downtown. They haven’t seen the Whittemore's yet, and aren’t really planning to.

Derek looks around his table, at Jackson, Danny, and Stiles, their laugh and bickering, and silently thanks the gods for this chance.

*

The next time Cora video calls, Derek answers her with Jackson at his side, full kanima style. Watching her face changing into a myriad of emotions, including horror? It’s fun.

*

Isaac is harder to speak to, and Derek almost gives up. But Stiles is looking at him from across the table, holding his hands, and Derek closes his eyes and waits for the other man to pick up his phone. Derek is surprised when Isaac answers, even if is with a wary “Hello?”.

The thing is, it was Derek’s idea to call. Spending time with Danny and Jackson has made his heart drawn in guilty over letting Isaac go. He needs to try, for Isaac but for his own peace of mind too.

Their conversation is stilted, and clumsy, and awkward at times. Derek apologizes. Isaac doesn’t say that he forgives him, doesn’t make promises, claims that it’s too soon.

“I had a lot of time to think and I... can't forget, not yet, but I – understand why you did everything that you did. I really do,” Isaac says.

“Oh. _Thank you_ ,” Derek replies, with feeling.

Despite his words, Isaac answers when Derek calls next time, and the next, until they can breathe a little easier, hold themselves a little looser.

He is studying art, he says. France is cool, he says.

Derek gets the feeling that Isaac is not as happy as he sounds like, but he doesn’t push.

*

Sometimes Derek still gets gloomy, thinking himself unworthy and stupid, but on those days Jackson and Danny come over and pick a movie for them to watch, Cora and Isaac video call, and Stiles cuddle with him, holding him close to his warmth until the worst of it is over.

*

Stiles still complains about Isaac, but Derek thinks it’s just for show.

“Oh my god, he is such a douche with his French accent!” Stiles lay in the bed, fooling around on his cellphone while Derek goes to his nighttime routine. “Merci this, Au revoir that. Soooooo fucking boring.”

Derek raises his eyebrows. “Pourquoi vous plaignez-vous? Je pense que vous aimez quand je parle dans une autre langue”.

“Oh my god,” Stiles complains, throwing the pillow at him. His scent, though, has gone sweet and pliant, just like Derek likes.

Derek smirks at his face in the mirror.

*

Later, Derek doesn’t bother with putting on clothes, climbing Stiles’ body still dump and fresh from his shower.

Stiles puts his phone away, eyes huge when he takes in the image of Derek in front of him and puts a hand around Derek’s neck to bring their mouths together in a gentle kiss.

Slowly, his hands travel down Derek's body, over his waist and cheeks, until feather light fingers touch his rim and shake a little when Stiles feels the wetness there.

“Oh my god” he repeats, voice tight and wavering a little. “Tell me you want it”.

Derek continues kissing open-mouthed kisses over Stiles’ neck, already knowing what Stiles is asking.

“Eu quero”, Derek whispers, “Eu te quero tanto que nem sei”.

That night their lovemaking is quiet, and sweet, with hands gripping, mouths touching and Derek feels so full, Stiles touching places Derek didn't even know existed in his body before, he might fly away if weren’t for Stiles, meeting him in every thrust, looking at him with so much love and trust that it takes Derek’s breath away.

They climb towards pleasure together and come together, Derek hiding his face in Stiles’ neck while Stiles cries out. Derek can feel the wetness in his tights when Stiles pulls out, and his boyfriend holds him tight after as if to prevent him from disappearing.

Derek wants to say that he is not going anywhere, couldn’t even if he tried, that Stiles is stuck with him now. But he settles for kissing his collarbones and murmuring “eu te amo” into the sweaty skin.

For the way Stiles’ grip slacks a bit and his hands start caressing his damp hair, Derek knows Stiles understood.

*

They haven’t been counting on Kira coming back.

There is a fallout between the Kitsune and the McCall pack when Kira finds Scott is dating her best friend and never told Kira a thing. Apparently, Scott thought their relationship was already over, but Kira hadn’t got the memo.

The girl is crying on his couch, eyes red-rimmed while Stiles speaks quietly to her, but Derek doesn’t try to overhear. Instead, he makes himself busy in the kitchen, preparing tea for them.

When he goes back to the living room and hands Kira her mug, she is saying “he should have let me know. I would have understood. But this? Going behind my back? I don’t get it.”

Stiles looks at him with scared eyes, and Derek sits on the other side of Kira, putting his hands on top of hers.

“I don’t think there’s anything to understand. It was a misunderstanding,” Derek says. It doesn’t mean that, in this moment, he wouldn’t give anything to hit Scott and Malia in their pretty heads. How could they have been so selfish?

“The only thing we can give you”, Derek continues, “is our company. You are always welcome here.”

Kira doesn’t answer, but puts her head on his shoulders and cries a bit more.

*

In the next few days, Stiles spends some time with Scott and comes back home weary and red-eyed, but Derek doesn’t ask.

Kira comes over a couple times, and the chair close to the TV starts smelling like her a bit. They all meet for a movie, neither speak of the McCall pack, and even Jackson tries to be less of an asshole that day. Derek puts a hand on his shoulder and squeezes, letting Jackson know he did well. Danny and Stiles smile at him over the gesture.

*

Kira ambushes him in the balcony during a break. Derek can hear the others arguing over the next movie to watch. Apparently, “Danny’s choice sucks” and Stiles “doesn’t trust Jackson’s taste”. Derek knows better though, he recognizes Stiles’ crazy need to control everything that goes on the TV. He lives with him after all.

He stops listening and turns his attention to the girl by his side.

She says “I want to be part of your pack.”

Derek is so surprised and he knows his face must be making some strange expression, because Kira keeps talking nervousness creeping into her voice.

“I know we don’t know each other that well, but I liked what I saw. I enjoy spending time here, and I really like Stiles, and you, and the others. With my powers, I need a pack. I need structure and safety. I need this, Derek.”

Derek wants to say that he doesn’t have a pack, that this is crazy, and that he can’t even take care of himself, how can he be responsible for someone else?

Some days he still needs Stiles push to get out of bed. Some days he can’t deal with the world and Stiles becomes his lifeline, working as a barrier between Derek and everything else.

He doesn’t have a job, and Derek doesn’t know if he will ever be able to. He still has nightmares and there are days where he feels so useless he can only stare at the wall for hours. Some nights he still hears her voice in his head.

He is not _fixed_ , and he doesn’t know if he will ever be. There is only so much therapy can do, and he might have to keep going to therapy for the rest of his life.

But then he remembers Stiles, his love, and how his magic had turned bright blue, how he said Derek was his alpha. He thinks about Cora, Jackson, Danny, and Isaac in their lives, how happy they have been these last few months. He thinks about Cora’s happiness with his cooking skills, how she has taken to ask for his advice in most kitchen related things. He thinks about Jackson’s face when he lectured Derek about the best wine to buy for New Year’s Eve. He thinks about Danny and his horrific face when he saw the state of Derek’s laptop, and how he worked on it for Derek, for free. And Derek thinks about Isaac, his soft voice and the way he is letting his walls down around them, layer by layer.

He thinks about Laura, and their mother, and his family.

Then he looks at Kira and thinks about the strong girl, and how amazing she can be if only given the chance.

He smiles and goes for a hug.

*

“There is something in the woods”.

Derek startles, almost falling out of bed. “What?” He asks sleepily.

Stiles is already putting on his clothes, and he raises his voice a bit. “Something. In the woods. I just felt it. It entered Hale territory minutes ago. Come on.”

Ten minutes later, they are driving to the preserve, texting Jackson, Danny, and Kira on the way. Stiles tried contacting Scott but had no luck.

Once they arrive, Derek feels the energy – It’s different from everything he has ever felt before. Maybe something in the air reminded him of… Brazil? Derek shook his head, it wasn’t possible.

Stiles starts walking in one direction, but Derek holds his wrists and steers him to the place where the energy radiates. Derek hears the sound of water, and a faint tremor rakes through his body. It’s not possible. It’s not.

When they hear the howl, they start running, just to be faced with Scott, on his knees, bound and looking at them with wide eyes. At his side, a woman with red curly hair is smirking, looking pleased with herself. Behind them, Derek can hear the river that cuts through the preserve running wild.

“Took you long enough to find me, spark”. She has a strong accent and a rough voice, and Derek can’t believe but he knows where she is from. Stiles is quiet beside him, sharp eyes studying the woman.

“Why are you so far away from your home, witch?” Derek asks, and the woman glances at him but turns her eyes at Stiles again.

“He is really innocent, this wolf, isn’t he?” She says as if sharing gossip with a friend. Like a true villain, she starts walking in circles around Scott. “At first, I wanted money, Hale money. I have been watching your sister, and then I was watching you, all weak, going to therapy. Giving up”.

At this, Stiles searches for his hands, squeezing tight. But Derek knows that she is wrong. Going to therapy is everything but giving up. On the contrary, it’s fighting harder for life.

“I thought, what better than the power of a born werewolf? But you were never alone, and that stupid pack was super tight. When you left, I followed you.”

Then, the witch turns to Scott, rolling on the floor, super strength and red eyes doing nothing to break the bounds. “Sorry honey, but I found something better. A true alpha!” She claps her hands. “Now there is only one thing in my way.”

She flashes her dark lashes at Stiles, and shouts. “I took your alpha, spark. There is no way you can defeat me now. I already took care of your cute little pack. This territory? It’s gonna be _mine”_.

*

At her call, a giant, enormous body comes out of the water, sliding fast across the floor like a snake, and going straight for Derek. _Boiúna_ , his mind supplies.

Stiles puts himself between them, mountain ash closing around them in a perfect circle.

“My alpha?” Stiles asks, eyes furious as the snake, as big as a building, crashes against the circle. “Maybe you should have done a better research. Scott is _not_ my alpha. I don’t belong to the Mccall pack anymore. I belong to _Alpha Hale_.”

With this, he crouches and puts his hands on the floor, canalizing the power in the preserve and boosting Derek’s body. Everything burns bright blue around them and Derek can feel the power running through him, shaking his core. “Der, now!” Stiles screams, turning to face the witch.

Derek jumps out of the circle just as Jackson and Danny arrive at the scene, and the wolf and the Kanima try to contain Boiúna, who had changed its course and now is trying to drag Scott towards the river.

Derek trusts Stiles to stand his ground, so he focuses on trying to contain the snake. The werewolf isn’t aiming to hurt Boiúna because he is almost sure that the snake is being controlled by the witch.

Actually, for all that Derek knows, Boiúna shouldn’t even be awake. One of its legends says that the snake sleeps under an Amazonian city, and when he wakes up chaos will be brought into the world, but he hasn’t heard about any doom tales of late from Cora, so the witch must have found a way of kidnapping Boiúna without bringing attention to the fact.

Jackson understands Derek’s plan without words and tries to apply Kanima venom to the creature, without success.

Boiúna is making a big mess, crashing on trees and destroying everything in its path. But then, lightning strikes and forms a circle around the area, keeping Boiúna inside the part of the forest already damaged. Derek looks up and sees Kira walking towards them, arms and sword ready to contain the giant body if tries to escape.

That gives Derek a chance of holding the slick body, somewhat stilling its movements. Danny shows up with rope, and together they try to tie the magical creature with it.

While he is occupied trying to push the rope around the scales, Derek chances a look at Stiles, and finds the spark with a blue aura all over him, contrasting to the red aura of the witch. He witnesses Stiles using the forest assets against the woman: wind, earth, and water moving as the spark desires. It’s breathtaking.

When Derek feels the wet body of the snake slipping past his fingers, he goes back to the task at hand, turning away from the other fight.

They are getting tired, and the witch is still standing, dodging the fireballs Stiles aims at her,  when the struggles and screams and howls suddenly turn silent, and the air acquires an eerie quality to it.

From the corner of his eyes, Derek sees the silhouette of a woman coming out of the water, stopping at the edge of the river.

Her hands move silently, and freezing water comes out of the river, involving the witch from behind. Her whole body became cold as ice, and then it breaks. Derek wasn’t expecting it, to see somebody breaking into tiny little pieces, and the surprise is so big that he almost missed how Boiúna has stopped struggling.

He sees Stiles step towards the frozen pieces, creating fire with his hands and applying it to melt the ice and burn the remains. Derek flinches when the smell of burning skin gets to him, but he knows it’s the only way to defeat a powerful sorcerer.

While Jackson pants and hugs Danny, Kanima venom finally working on Boiúna, and Stiles frees Scott from his bondage, Derek takes his time to stare at their savior. He looks at the olive skin, straight dark hair and onyx eyes who are staring back at him. She is naked from the waist up, the tide hiding the rest of her body from view. _Iara_ , Derek thinks. Just like Boiúna, Iara is a myth, the tale of a mermaid who protects the Amazonian river and its creatures being passed for generations. Derek is amazed.

Iara turns to Boiúna, and without words, communicates exactly what she wants.

Derek, Jackson, Danny, Stiles, Kira and Scott drag the huge body towards the water, and once they are close Iara brings her face to Boiúna’s forehead. It wakes, jumping and disappearing into the water.

Before she follows the snake into the deep water, probably returning from where they both came from, returning home, Iara stares at Derek with a blank face until Stiles puts himself between the wolf and the mermaid. Her face softens and she leaves.

*

“That was the weirdest thing to ever happen to me,” Stiles tells them, later that night, after they make sure that the McCall pack is actually fine. They had all been put to sleep by the witch, and since she has been defeated, the curse was broken. There was an awkward moment between Scott and Kira, but when the Kitsune jumps into Jackson’s car she smells relaxed, and they left at that.

Now, they all lie around the living room, Stiles laying down on Derek’s tights on the couch while Derek pets his hair with gentle fingers. Kira, Jackson, and Danny are all spread around the room.

“Tell me about it,” Jackson rolls his eyes and eats another slice of pizza.

On the TV, Isaac’s face is full of mirth. “Oh my god, I can’t believe a fairytale has saved your sorry asses!”

Stiles’ makes an indignant face. “I will have you know that I was almost, almost teaching that crazy lady a lesson. I was just playing with her”, he shrugs, not fooling anybody.

“I have never seen anything like that. I am the one associated with a local pack, and you are the one Iara decides to protect”, Cora exclaims on the laptop screen, her eyes rolling and hands in the air. “This is so unfair!”

They all laugh at her exasperation, and Derek realizes that they all became a pack. A Long-distance, non-traditional pack, but a pack nonetheless.

*

“Dude, I can’t believe Iara tried to steal you away from me!”

Derek stops cleaning the living room and turns to Stiles, who is washing the dishes. “What?”

“Didn’t you see?” Stiles glances at him, then rolls his eyes, cursing lowly. “Of course you didn’t. Before she left, she was waiting for you to follow her!”

Derek thinks back to that moment and realizes that maybe Stiles is right. The thought makes him warm inside, to think that there are others, somewhere, that care about his safety, that consider him something worth saving.

Stiles looks at him and his smile turn softer around the edges, knowingly, hugging him from behind.

“Come, sweetwolf, let’s go to bed.”

*

Christmas is not a quiet affair. For the first time in a long time, the Stilinski’s and the McCalls have the Hale’s around. It’s loud and happy, and everyone enjoys Derek’s apple pie more than their fit bodies should. At least this is what Stiles says.

After, he and his pack go to the preserve, to drink and laugh and let go a little.

Jackson and Stiles found a way of putting wolfsbane in the alcohol, and the taste is a little acid, but actually pretty good.

In the morning, they find out the embarrassing photos they sent Cora and Isaac. Derek knows, he just _knows_ , that those two will never let them live it down.

*

Isaac is being weird for a few days, but Derek finally understands the other’s hesitation once he opens the gift the beta has sent him.

It’s a painting. A breathtaking, fucking beautiful painting. Of them all.

In the middle Derek and Stiles stand, next to each other as if walking towards the center of the scene. Derek can feel the power coursing through Stiles in the draw and the animalistic edge on the werewolf's eyes on the portrait.

On Stiles’ side, Isaac painted Danny and Jackson and Kira. But on Derek’s side, Isaac painted himself, close to the images of a laughing Erica and an amused Boyd.

The shock is so fast that Derek doesn’t even realize he is crying until Stiles gets home and finds him sobbing on their kitchen floor.

But those are happy tears. Derek can’t find the words to say how grateful he is to have a way of looking at Erica and Boyd again, of keeping their memory fresh and loud in his mind.

They put the painting in the dining room, and it feels right.

*

On the next full moon, Stiles decides to throw a big barbecue in the preserve, and they invite Scott’s pack to spend the occasion with them. Even the sheriff and Melissa join them. Cora also makes the trip to California just to be with them for the month.

Isaac doesn’t come, but Derek feels like it’s ok. They are happier now, and Isaac considers himself pack again. Derek gets the impression that the beta is thinking of coming back home, but hasn’t made his decision official yet.

Derek can wait.

At some point in the evening, Derek starts shivering since it’s still winter and it’s not yet time for them to surrender to their wolf side. Eyeing him, Stiles clasps his hands and flashes of blue light emerge from his palms, culminating in a huge bonfire with bright blue flames. The bonfire generates so much heat that isn’t long until everyone starts sweating.

Derek isn’t afraid of the flames because he isn’t afraid of anything that Stiles makes. He trusts his mate with his whole heart.

When Derek raises an eyebrow at him, pulling his sticky shirt from his chest, Stiles just puts his hands on his shoulders and shakes him. “I thought you might get cold, dude, you spent too much time in South America!”

“So you, what – built a fire just to keep me warm?”

“Hell yeah!" Stiles exclaims. Then, all playfulness gone, he puts his arm around his neck and whispers tight and low in his ears. "The real question is, what I wouldn't do for you, Der".

Derek lets that thought sink and unfurl inside him, flourishing, and he realizes the reverse is also true. There isn’t anything he wouldn’t do to keep Stiles happy, and comfortable, and smiling in his arms.

Derek kisses his cheek, and hugs him leisurely, letting Stiles’ scent overwhelm his senses.

It’s more than good.

It’s kind of perfect.

 

FIM.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Translations:  
> Pourquoi vous plaignez-vous? Je pense que vous aimez quand je parle dans une autre langue: Why are you complaining? I thought you loved when I spoke in different languages with you.  
> Eu quero: I want you.  
> Eu te quero tanto que nem sei: I want you so much I don’t even know.  
> Eu te amo: I love you.
> 
> @aredblush, I tried to use the things you said you liked on this second chapter, like magical! Stiles, mermaids and so on, I hope you like it ♥ 
> 
> This fic is also on Tumblr [here](http://stereksecretsanta.tumblr.com/post/168904129343/merry-christmas-aredblush-i-had-such-a-blast)

**Author's Note:**

> Translations:  
> Chuva da tarde: Afternoon’s rain.
> 
> Hi, @aredblush, I had such a blast writing this, I hope you like your gift ♥  
> Anyway, Merry Christmas Stereks!!! I wish next year will bring more amazing fanarts, fanfics, gifs, and everything that is beautiful in the world for us ♥ 
> 
> PS: I will be posting the second chapter in a few days!


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